GXPW - On the Ropes
by Higurazel
Summary: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX Pro-Wrestling Two writers whose technical knowledge of both may at times be hampered by love of big dumb storylines and shipping. Expect drama, excitement, silliness and some downright fire-stoking promos.


Roars of approval echoed through the KaibaLand training centre's main hall, chants and shouts merging with the noise of bodies smashing heavily against canvas. Through the jostling audience, a lone figure attempted to find his way by the dim house lights. He ducked down and crept past a row of young men in blue coats, nearly spilling the drink of one and earning himself a dirty look for his trouble. He smiled and tried his best to pass it off as a non-incident as he finally found a place to sit, settling into place beside a diminutive blue-haired fighter in what appeared to be a prospect's outfit.

The youth gave him a cursory glance, peering over the top of thick spectacles, eyebrow arched. He grinned back and offered his hand.

"Yuki Judai," he announced, "pleased to meet you."

"Marufuji Shou," came the response along with a surprisingly firm handshake. "Are you here to watch the entrance exams?"

Ahead of them, a few tiers of seating down and past a metal barrier, the main ring was spotlit and quaking. Within, two men were rising to their feet after a calamitous collision. One wore a simple blue singlet while the other had the unflattering grey attire of a prospective entrant into Duel Academia Pro Wrestling. From what Judai could see, both men looked exhausted, but there was a telltale glimmer of a smile at the corner of the prospect's lips. In a flash he was up from the canvas and racing at his opponent, leaping and twisting himself about the other. One arm encircled the blue-clad fighter's throat, while the other held his head in place. The two crashed down prone again, and the prospect gripped tight with his legs. In an instant, the fight was over, a rapidly tapping hand signifying the prospects victory by submission.

The crowd erupted into applause, a unified chant coursing through the building.

"MI-SA-WA! NUM-BER-ONE! MI-SA-WA! NUM-BER-ONE!"

The prospect, Misawa, simply helped his opponent to his feet before silently bowing and making his way out of the ring. Passing the commentary desk, he made his way into the stands and was lost to sight.

"Wow," Judai sighed, "nothing but the best here, huh?"

"That's Misawa Daichi," Shou explained, "he was ranked number one in the promotion's entrance exam so I think everyone expected him to put on a great show. Even if he hadn't, with a score like his he'd have no trouble getting in. I'm just lucky I won my match."

"Why, where did you place?"

"One hundred and nineteen," Shou quietly grumbled, staring intently at the floor.

Judai let out a low whistle, "Even lower than me," he said, patting the boy on the shoulder.

"Wait, you're a prospect too?" Shou did nothing to hide the shock on his face.

"Yeah, rank one hundred and ten!" Judai beamed, thumping himself on the chest.

"But where's your ring gear?"

"I was in a rush when the train in was late so I haven't had time to get changed yet."

"What do you mean yet? The entrance matches ran in reverse order, so your match would have been a few hours ago. Also it would have been in the hall across the road from here."

Judai jolted up out of his seat, coming close to accidentally headbutting someone who was trying to get by.

"No way!" He yelled, "Ah man, I've got to get this fixed."

The spotlight faded from above the ring, coming up again over the commentary desk where a tall, slender man was rising from his seat with his arms outstretched, his voice broadcasting from his headset to the hall's speakers.

"Signors e Signoras!" He announced, "I trust that you have all enjoyed the matches today. Our prospective entrants have shown true fighting spirit, would you not say?"

A chorus of approval rippled through the crowd, though more than a few jeers and boos could be heard bubbling up from some tightly knit groups. The commentator removed his headset and picked up a microphone, making his way into the ring, the whole way tracked by the lights.

"While many of today's competitors will be going home today, I feel confident that those individuals who will be coming with us to DAPW will make a welcome addition to the family, no?"

The commentator flicked back a strand of pale blonde hair and grinned. Yes, there had truly been an impressive collection of youngbloods today, and it meant great things for the future of the promotion. He opened his mouth to continue the speech, pausing as a referee ran to him, hand raised as he called for him to stop.

"Mr de Medici, Sir," the referee said, his head bowed low. "We have been informed that there is another competitor who needs to be given an examination match."

Confusion furrowed the commentator's brow. He gripped his hand around his microphone and wheeled on the messenger.

"I was under the impression that we had seen all of the entrants?"

"Yes sir, but there was one more who managed to get his application in just before the deadline."

"Unacceptable!" He fumed, "What is his exam rank?"

"One hundred and ten, sir."

The noise that emanated from the commentator was barely human, a mix of rage and confusion.

"You cannot be serious! No no no! Anyone who gets his application in at the last minute clearly does not have the respect necessary for this business to warrant a place in our roster! Such a prospect would be nothing more than a future drop-out!"

"But sir, we have been told that everybody who gets their application in on time has to be given a shot. Everybody."

"What fool made such a decision?"

The referee looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Ah, Mr. Samejima, sir. This message came from him directly."

The commentator paled, his teeth gritted in a horrifying rictus expression.

"I... I..." He stammered, attempting to compose himself. Just what the hell was that foolish old dog thinking?

"Do we have an opponent for the entrant, sir?"

"Do we have an opponent for the drop-out boy?" The commentator repeated through a clenched jaw. He looked as though he were biting into a sour fruit, his face contorting as he thought through his options. His fingers gripped the microphone tightly, throttling the device until a crafty grin began to play across his painted lips. "Oh yes, I think I have someone in mind."

"Sir?"

"What is this drop-out-boy's name?"

Judai paced behind the curtain, still waiting to hear back on the officials' decision. From what he understood, he was still in time to get his application in but the look on the suited talent agent's face hadn't filled him with confidence. If he could just be given a chance, he knew he'd blow them away. All he needed was a shot.

"You ok?"

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Daichi Misawa, collecting up some bags that had been left behind.

"Yeah," Judai told him. "Your match was awesome by the way! You got that grapevine in so quick."

Misawa smiled, "Always got to know what your opponent's strengths and weaknesses are. If they specialise in brawling, outmanouevre them. If they get technical, knock them down. If they want to use agility, put them in a submission hold and make sure they can't get out."

Judai nodded, "Pretty cool that you can keep your head together out there. I guess that's why you managed to score so highly. Second best out of all the applicants, super impressive."

Misawa arched his eyebrow. "Second best?"

"Yeah, they told me that you were ranked number one. So you must be the best out of everyone who's shown their stuff so far. And second to whoever hasn't."

"That's not... Quite how that works," Misawa said with a frown. "Besides, who else is still left to perform?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," the voice blared in from the main hall, "please welcome your final competitor for the evening. Yuki Judai!"

Judai smirked and flashed a thumbs up at Misawa, quietly adding "I didn't actually plan that, but damn that timing felt good." He rolled his shoulders and started a jog out onto the ramo, leaving a confused Misawa behind, a small smile forming on his face despite himself.

The crowd was, to put things politely, lukewarm in their reception of Judai. There were a few courtesy claps scattered throughout the stands but for the most part people were a little caught off guard. Most of them had thought things were over and were beginning to make their way towards the exits. At least half of the crowd from earlier was already gone. With the harsh lights, Judai couldn't make out just how many of the seats were empty, and he was certain it didn't matter. A million viewers or zero, he didn't care. Just as long as he got a chance to have his match. Still, it did unnerve him with just how quiet it felt.

He had barely made it into the ring, his heart drumming away somewhere around his ears as he finally stood in the centre, before the silence was shattered. Crackling over the speakers were the opening snares of Rossini's La Gazza Ladra overture.

"And his opponent: from Florence, Italia. Cronos de Medici!"

That got the crowd talking. Some who had been shuffling towards the exits stopped dead, spinning on their heel to see the entrance ramp. Hushed voices chattered away as the music got into full sway and a tall, flamboyantly dressed figure stepped into view.

Instructor and commentator Chronos de Medici had shed the suit he had worn for announcing the earlier matches, now garbed in an ostentatious royal blue robe with gold accessories and feathers attached to seemingly every available inch of material. He gave a wide, strained smile as he made his way to the ring, waving regally to the audience and paying not the slightest bit of attention to his opponent. He ascended the steps to the ring, scuffed his feet along the apron to kick the robe free and step through the ropes.

Judai watched in amazement as his opponent dropped his robe, revealing a classic singlet that would have been right at home on one of the old wrestling tapes from the 80s that he had hoarded religiously. This guy was clearly the real deal, and Judai could almost feel himself getting a little starstruck, barely even noticing the referee patting him on the shoulder and asking if he was ready. He nodded, and the referee looked a little suspiciously at his "civilian" attire, but shrugged and approached Chronos to ask the same question.

The music faded.

The murmur of the crowd started to settle down.

The bell rang.

"Are you kidding me?" The Obelisk Blue slumped back into his seat. "Who does this clown think he is? He's fighting Chronos! Manjoume, can you believe this?"

Manjoume rolled his eyes, not even looking at the match unfolding before him.

"Clearly they want to teach an upstart a lesson." He said, "it'll be all over in a few seconds."

Below, the two combatants stepped in towards one another, locking up in a basic collar-and-elbow. After a few seconds of pushing back and forth, Chronos slipped behind the youth and gripped him in a full-nelson. With the crowd only just warming up, he hoisted upwards, tossing his opponent over his head.

"There, see? Already hitting a Gearplex." Manjoume stretched as he got to his feet. "That loser shouldn't have even-" he froze, watching wide-eyed as the young man turned in the air, almost effortlessly landing on his feet. Many of the remaining audience members gave a polite round of applause.

"Are you kidding me?" Manjoume echoed.

Before he could let it go to his head, Judai capitalised on his momentary advantage. Leaping back, he ricocheted off the ropes and hurtled towards Chronos, leaving his feet and catching him with a crossbody attack. Both competitors dropped to the mat with a satisfying crash. Judai heard a wheeze of air and a quiet curse in Italian whisper past his ear.

From her vantage point, Asuka Tenjouin gave a quiet noise of approval and nodded her head. Her companion, the Kaiser Marufuji Ryou, remained as poker-faced as ever.

"I don't think he realises just how lucky he got." She said, "Instructor de Medici's put so many people away with that suplex, he clearly doesn't want to make this match look like it needs any effort."

"Either that's blinded him to the threat here, or de Medici's accidentally picked on someone with real talent." Kaiser watched in quiet fascination as the two continued their match, trading blows and barely countering one another's attacks.

Judai was up and on his feet as Chronos lay stunned from another collision. The youth sprinted to the corner, vaulting up onto the top turnbuckle and turning on the spot. A quiet hum of expectation hung in the room and he paused just for a moment. No way was he going to turn back now. The final push. All or nothing. He leapt from the top rope, throwing his legs forward and spinning in the air. At the last second he threw in a corkscrew turn, smashing down into his opponent like an anvil. He was too winded to notice the few approving shouts coming from the crowd, instead putting all of his effort into crawling back towards Chronos, draping on arm over the prone fighter.

The referee was at his side in an instant, slamming his hand down to the mat.

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

He called for the bell as Judai got to his shaking feet, stunned and a little overwhelmed. He looked out into the crowd, beaming as cheers sounded out, covering the few disparaging voices in the audience. The referee lifted Judai's arm in victory and the youth couldn't help but let out a whoop of joy. He wheeled back around at Chronos, picking himself up from the canvas and attempting to retain his dignity. Judai pointed and flashed him a smile, utterly oblivious to the scowl painted across his former opponent's face.

"Gotcha! That was a great match!"

Long after Chronos had gotten up and left the ring, that same unwavering grin was painted across Judai's face. Even as he packed his things together and started out towards the boat to Duel Academia Pro Wrestling's headquarters, it still lingered. He was just getting started.


End file.
